Between the Lies Page 9

  He began to walk to his car when a truck came down the street and stopped in front of the station. Philemon Harrington opened the door and yanked Benji out, Jack following behind. “Kinion in there?” Harrington demanded.

  “What’s going on?” Hick asked, surprised to see Benji with a bruise on one cheek and a rip in his shirt.

  Adam appeared in the doorway and Hick had never seen him look larger or more terrible. “What the hell happened?” His narrowed eyes flit back and forth between Harrington and his son.

  “Your boy here got in a fight. First day out in the fields! I ain’t got time for this, Kinion. I got cotton that needs chopping and iffen he’s just gonna start trouble, he can damn well stay home.” He looked at Benji. “You come back tomorrow planning to work and stay outta trouble or don’t come back at all!”

  He stomped around the truck and climbed in, slamming the door. The truck sprayed gravel as he drove out of town.

  Adam stared at Benji. “You want to tell me what happened?”

  Benji looked down, sullen and embarrassed. Jack spoke up. “Mr. Kinion, some guys came by the fields and called you and the sheriff ‘nigger lovers’. They said you was helping Thad Burton get away with murder.”

  Adam caught Hick’s eye. “How’d they—?”

  “And they was handing out these.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a flyer. Adam took it and his face darkened. He handed the paper to Hick. It read:

  GOOD CITIZENS OF ARKANSAS!

  There is only one force that can prevail in the face of governmental tyranny, and that is the power of an intelligent, responsible, free community of citizens unwilling to surrender their rights to a judiciary bent on destroying their way of life. We rely on the good sense and decency of every resident in the south, to stand enmasse against a corrupt, godless government forcing the integration of the races. This is only the first step in destroying a way of life that we, as southerners, have cherished and held dear for decades.

  Senator John Wesley Richardson, Democratic Candidate for Governor will hold a Town Hall meeting in Broken Creek, Arkansas on Wednesday, July 21, 1954 at 6:00 p.m. to listen to your concerns about this blatant overreach by the Federal Government.

  “Where’d these guys come from?” Hick asked, folding the paper and putting it in his shirt pocket.

  “I don’t know, Uncle Hick,” Benji replied. “But when they found out who me and Jack were, they started talking bad about you. Saying that you and Daddy was helping that boy get away with killing a white man.”

  “And then what?” Adam’s voice was tight with rage.

  “Then I told one of ’em he was full of shit and knocked him down,” Benji replied.

  “How’d the rest of the choppers react to the flyer?” Hick asked.

  “I don’t reckon they knew what to think,” Benji said. “They just read it and stuffed it in their pockets, but ol’ man Harrington came out right when I knocked the fella down. Those guys all scattered and ol’ Man Harrington didn’t ask no questions. Just said he don’t allow no monkey business out in his fields and marched us to his truck and brought us here.”

  “He knew nothing about the flyer or what caused the fight?” Adam asked.

  “Not that I know of, sir. And neither one of us said a word on the drive over here.”

  “I’ll talk to him. We don’t need this kind of crap coming into Cherokee Crossing. I won’t stand for it, and I’ll tell him he’d better keep a better eye on what’s going on in his fields.”

  “Should we go back tomorrow after school?” Jack asked.

  Adam put his hand on his adopted son’s shoulder. His expression was troubled. “No. Not tomorrow. I’ll talk to Harrington and square this away. Just keep out of trouble, you hear?”

  Both boys nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, run on home,” Adam said. “Tell your mama not to worry. I got this under control.”

  Adam frowned and adjusted his belt. His eyes met Hick’s. “You may be right about trouble coming.”

  “After you talk to Harrington tomorrow, check in with Matt Pringle, Lem Coleman, and some of the other farmers out on Ellen Isle and tell ’em to be on the lookout. The last thing we need here in Cherokee Crossing is outside agitators starting trouble.”

  Adam nodded. “Will do. Now, you get on home.”

  The uneasy feeling gnawing at Hick didn’t give way until he saw Maggie sitting on the front porch swing.

  “I see you’re off your feet,” he said. He sat beside her and gave the swing a nudge to get it going again.

  “I’m just a little tired and have one of my headaches. Mourning’s frying some pork chops.”

  “Sounds good. The boys behave today?”

  She smiled. “Of course they behaved.”

  He looked into her face. “And did you behave?”

  “I did just what you said. I sat around and did nothing all day long. Are you satisfied?”

  “Yes.” He kissed the tip of her nose and pushed a tendril of hair off her forehead. “Yes, I am.”

  “Supper time,” Mourning called from the house.

  Hick helped Maggie to her feet, opened the door for her, and started in after her, the aroma of pork chops making his stomach growl. But he turned when he noticed the squad car speeding toward the house. “What’s wrong now?” he muttered. Striding down to the drive, he waited as the car came to a stop.

  “It’s Thad and that lawyer,” Adam said through the open window. “They’re gone.”

  “What do you mean … gone?”

  “I mean I just got a call from that preacher. Thad’s sister says they just disappeared. Both of ’em.”

  “Dammit! You think she took him somewhere?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ve got to go. I told the operator where to find us. That preacher wants to see you. Says Thad’s daddy is mad as hell.”

  “What the hell did you do with my boy?” Enos Burton demanded in an angry, but controlled voice as soon as Hick and Adam opened the door to Our Lady of Sorrows. “I told you to leave well enough alone. Why you gotta mess things up?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hick said. “I haven’t done anything with Thad and have no idea where he is.”

  “But you called that lady lawyer,” Enos protested. His eyes snapped with barely controlled fury. “She’s the one getting everyone riled up.”

  “I did not call her and have no idea who did,” Hick said.

  “Then how did she find out?” Father Grant asked in surprise. “I assumed she found out from you.”

  “No, I don’t know any lawyers. Especially in New York.”

  “You didn’t call her?” Adam asked the priest.

  “I did not,” Grant replied, looking at Adam with a hint of distrust.

  “This is my deputy and brother-in-law, Adam Kinion,” Hick said by way of introduction. “So how could she have found out? Newspaper?”

  “Perhaps,” Father Grant answered. “The story was in the paper, but how would the local paper get to her in New York?”

  The door to the church swung open, and everyone turned to see Royal Adkins enter, a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t expect to see a crowd in here.” He turned to Hick. “I saw your car out front, Sheriff. What’s going on?”

  “Thad’s gone missing.”

  “He’s not missing,” Royal said.

  Enos Burton walked over and looked down at Royal. “Where’s my son?”

  Royal, who seemed intimidated by Enos’ size, blurted, “I got everything under control.” Turning to Hick, he added, “Ya’ll didn’t need to make a trip out here. I was on my way back to Cherokee to see you.”

  “Where’s Thad?” Father Grant repeated.

  Royal was clearly confused by the anxiety in the church. “I don’t know what everyone’s so worked up about. I went to the station just like you and the deputy told me to. I went to the back door and heard some voices inside. Brewster was telling a group of men he was gonna re-arrest Thad
and drive that lady lawyer out of town.”

  “Who was in this group?” Hick asked.

  “They was all our nice, respectable folks. Some of our more prominent preachers. The banker was walking out the front door.”

  Adam frowned and glanced at Hick. “How was Brewster planning to get rid of the lawyer and re-arrest Thad?”

  “Didn’t hear any particulars. Just heard Uncle Earl say that woman lawyer been meddlin’ down here long enough and it was time to send her home. Said after they got rid of her they could get Thad back where he belongs and get Mr. Enos Burton to convince his boy to confess, just like they planned. Since Thad was told he had to stay at home, that’s where Uncle Earl was headed. I figured it might be for the best if he and that lawyer laid low for a while. You know, someplace Brewster and those men wouldn’t think to look.”

  “Well, where are they?” Hick asked.

  “Someplace respectable folks don’t go,” Royal replied.

  13

  Monday, July 19, 1954

  The sounds of music and laughter blasted through the darkness of trees that crowded around the river. A blinking sliver of light was visible at a distance as Royal parked behind the long row of cars that lined the side of the dirt road.

  Hick, Adam, and Royal stepped from the car into the dense shadows of trees and Hick spied several stacked cages. From these cages came the sounds of crowing, clucking, and the flapping of wings.

  “Cock fighting?” Hick asked, brushing away a mosquito whining near his ear.

  “Cock fighting, dancing, a little drinking. It’s your typical juke joint.”

  The lawmen picked their way through the underbrush toward the noise. The air had a sour smell and waves of high-pitched whirring from cicadas and crickets rang in Hick’s ears. The peep of frogs swelled and then diminished as they drew near. A stick cracked and suddenly a shadowy figure loomed before them.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Dewey,” Royal answered. “I brought some friends.”

  Hick heard the sound of a gun un-cock, though he had never seen the pistol. Dewey approached and squinted at the men. “I recognize you,” he said to Hick, “but who’s the big one?”

  “This is Adam,” Hick said. “He’s my brother-in-law and my deputy at Cherokee Crossing.”

  “Hellfire, we ain’t never had so many lawmen out here,” Dewey said, with a scratching laugh. Turning to Royal he said, “That she-devil you brought has been nothing but trouble since you left her. Dink and Willie need me at the still but I’ve been stuck here keeping her quiet. You owe us.”

  “I was afraid she might be a little hard to handle, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to explain to her what I was doing, but she argued with me the whole way out here.” Royal said as way of apology. “The only reason she came in the first place was I had Thad with me. I didn’t know where else to take them, but I knew Uncle Earl would never come looking for those two out here.”

  Dewey spat tobacco juice and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “She was bothering the customers,” he said. The men made their way through a clearing filled with revelers laughing and drinking. They passed more cages with roosters awaiting their fate inside the barn and beside these cages several groups of men were drinking and smoking. A shout followed by some shoving drew their attention and two men began to circle one another with their fists clenched. Squinting through the darkness, Hick was surprised to see that Hoyt Smith was among the spectators, making wagers on the fight. Just before they turned the corner, Hick heard the thud of a fist and a groan. He turned and saw a man fall to the ground amidst cheering and dollars changing hands.

  They came to a small shed behind the barn. Opening the door, Dewey said, “We had to shut her up.”

  The three lawmen entered the shack and were greeted by the frightened face of Thad Burton and the angry eyes of Carol Quinn, visible over a kerchief tied tightly over her mouth. She jerked at the ropes that held her hands tied to the arms of a chair, and when she saw Hick she let loose a muffled, unintelligible barrage of anger.

  Hick rushed to Carol and began untying her hands. “Did you have to tie her up?”

  “She won’t sit still, and she won’t shut up,” Dewey explained with a shrug. “If I were you I’d leave her as she is.”

  “Christ almighty, Dewey! You can’t—” As soon as one hand was loose, a smack landed across Hick’s face that caused him to see stars.

  Dewey laughed. “I told you to leave her.”

  “You stupid idiots,” Carol sputtered, struggling to untie her other hand and pulling the gag from her mouth. She rose from the seat and slammed the kerchief to the ground.

  “See what I mean?” Dewey said, his hands held upward in appeal.

  Carol Quinn’s eyes narrowed and her lips twitched with fury. “How dare you kidnap me and imprison me in this shack?” She poked Hick in the chest as she spat the words. “I’ll have the law—” She stopped, and looked at the three lawmen in front of her.

  Royal stepped forward. “Ma’am, it’s like I tried to tell you, I put you here for your safety.”

  “For my safety?” she snapped. Her eyes met Hick’s. “Am I right in guessing this was your idea?”

  “Your safety isn’t my concern,” Hick answered. He looked down at the boy beside her. “Thad’s is.”

  Carol’s eyes flitted from Hick to Adam, to Dewey, and then back to Royal. Sighing, she said, “Would someone please tell me what this is all about.”

  Royal looked at Hick, pleading for help. With a shrug, Hick said, “Ma’am, something’s off about this whole thing here with Thad.”

  Her eyes trailed around the shack and then returned to Hick’s face. “What do you mean by ‘off’?”

  “Brewster, the sheriff of this town. I tried to tell you, he ain’t exactly what you’d call … honest.”

  Dewey snorted.

  “And I suppose you are?”

  Hick removed his hat and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t give a damn what your opinion is of me. I didn’t call you, I didn’t put you here, and I don’t care if Brewster locks you up and throws away the key. But Thad here, he ain’t done nothing wrong. I’d like to know why Brewster is so intent on locking Thad up. Why the rush to scapegoat? Why was he in such a hurry that he grabbed a kid physically unable to do what Brewster says he did.”

  “Hold on,” Carol said, putting her hand up. “What do you mean scapegoat? Are you saying Brewster knows Thad is innocent?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But why would—?”

  “I don’t know,” Hick said. “But I aim to find out.”

  Carol’s anger seemed to subside. “And how do you propose to do that?”

  “With a lot of work and a little luck.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “In the meantime, I’m taking you and Thad back to Cherokee Crossing for a night or two. I know it violates the terms of his release, but Brewster ain’t too concerned with doing things by the book so I reckon we can’t be either.” Hick gave Adam a questioning glance.

  “We could sneak them into the back room of the jail,” Adam suggested.

  “Jail?” Carol’s voice rose an octave. “You want me to stay in the jail?”

  “Well, would you rather stay out here?”

  She looked around the dark shack. “No, I would not. Can’t we just go to my motel?”

  Hick shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Earl Brewster can be dangerous to tangle with, and he’s got a lot of important friends. He had a carefully laid plan to get Thad to take the blame and confess to running over that vagrant, then you appeared out of the blue and put a wrench in it.”

  Carol frowned. “But it’s all nonsense. Why would Thad confess? There’s not one shred of evidence that points to his involvement in this crime. Not one.”

  Hick shrugged. “That may be true
, but Brewster needs that confession, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to get it. I don’t know why he wants Thad to take the rap, but he knows if this case goes to court, there’s a chance he’ll be found not guilty.”

  “A chance? There’s no way in hell a jury would convict on the evidence Brewster showed me.” Incredulity laced each of Carol’s word.

  “Depends on the jury,” Hick said. “Folks have been known to overlook little things like the fact Thad couldn’t see out of the windshield, let alone that he wouldn’t have the strength or knowledge to drive a truck. When it comes to colored folks, there’s no guarantee a jury will do the right thing. But I don’t think Brewster is willing to gamble. If he can get rid of you, get Thad back into that jail cell, and remind Thad’s daddy of the desirability of a guilty plea, all before the prosecutor and judge get back from their fishing trip, then his plan will be back in order. Tidy and neat.”

  Carol was visibly shaken. Hick could see her thinking. She looked up into his face, the cocky defiance shattered, and asked, in a small voice, “When you say if Brewster can ‘get rid of me,’ what exactly do you mean?”

  “Let’s get you out of here and not worry about that right now. We’ve already had one person disappear. We don’t aim to lose anyone else.”

  “Already had one person disappear?”

  Hick ignored Carol and turned to Thad. “I’m taking you to Cherokee Crossing with me. You’re going to the jailhouse, but you’re not in any trouble, you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re gonna try and help you, okay?”

  Thad nodded, glanced at Royal, and then locked eyes with Hick, a glimmer of hope on his face.

  Hick turned back to Carol. “Okay?”

  She sighed and looked around the shack again. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Dewey opened the door to the darkness and noise outside. Hick noted that between the shed and Royal’s car, there was a line at the back door of the barn where customers came from far and wide to purchase Willie’s moonshine. In front of the barn people laughed and drank around several bonfires. Wagers were made on cockfighting and boxing, and money changed hands. Loud music came from a tiny pavilion and couples were dancing. It was a raucous crowd and there were plenty of people out in the yard cavorting under the moonlight. Getting Carol Quinn to Royal’s car would not be an issue. She was just a young woman, somewhat out of place, but by no means the only female present. But Willie did not sell to colored folks and would not have them on the premises. If seen, Thad’s presence would raise some eyebrows. Earl Brewster might not come around, but Hoyt Smith and plenty of others would tell him what they saw.